"That all? Most anybody could do their own work, seems to me. That's dead easy. It's when you do your own work, an' sever'l other people's besides, that you're ap' to be some occupied," observed Mrs. Slawson.
"Well, I don't care what you say, I just think I might have a new dress—Dutch neck, with short sleeves."
"Before you wanta wear a Dutch neck, you got to have a Dutch neck. You ain't a modern bathroom, that you must show you got exposed pipes. Better cover up your bones, an' think less about what you're wearin'. I got more to do than waste time fussin' about such trivolous things, so you better make up your mind you're goin' to skip this fashion."
"Well, I wisht you'd make me a new dress," wailed Cora, returning to her muttons undaunted. "You ain't too busy. Last night, before I went to bed, I saw you sittin' down, an' you weren't doin' anythin', either, only mendin' Sammy's pants."
Sam Slawson raised his head.
"That's right, Cora. Make your mother be busy! She don't work hard enough, as it is. Get a hump on, mother! Get a hump on."
"If I get another hump on, besides the one I already got, I'll be a drumederry," observed Mrs. Slawson imperturbably, while Cora left the room in tears, her sense of injury swelling beyond her power of control, when her father's irony proved he was siding with "mother" against her.
"The next time Cora gets fresh, and calls you down, Martha, I just wish you'd turn her over to me, and let me give her what she deserves," suggested Sam, as soon as the door was shut.
"Give her what she deserves? You couldn't. It'd take too long, besides exhaustin' you too much. But, I thank you kindly for offerin'. Barrin' a few airs an' graces, Cora's all right, an' when she ain't, I'm not too delicate yet, with easy livin', but what I can give her a lickin' that'll dust some of her fancy frills off'n her. When young 'uns gets along to a certain age, they're apter than not to get outa sorts an' feel they didn't have a fair show on parents. I been there myself, an' I see it work in other fam'lies. It may surprise you, Sam, but the young is hard, hard as nails. Only, nails has the advantage. Nails has heads. You got somethin' to tie to with them. But young folks is smooth and hard, an', when you think you got'm trained good, that's just the time they slip out from under your fingers, an' go spinnin' off, goodness knows where, away from you—like them pretty-appearin' candy balls that looks sweet, but you break your jawbones tryin' to put a tooth in'm. All you can do is lick'm oncet in a while. An' it's just the same with childern."
"Well, I won't have Cora giving you impudence, mother. If she hasn't the sense to appreciate you, at least I won't stand by and hear her tongue-lashing you."